The Girl That Spoke To Horses
by iinvisible
Summary: Well this is kinda a Spirit story it's kinda not. Its funny, I've been writing this story and I didn't know who would read it... I don't even know if people read this fandom any more. But its about horses, and if you love horses please just give it a chance. *FIRST TWO CHAPTERS REDONE*
1. Homecoming

****My name is Cheyenne Kaylin Williams, and I can speak to horses. I had no idea at first, though.

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**HOMECOMING**

_JUNE 2ND 1995_

I pushed my short auburn bangs behind my ear. I was looking out the window of my dad's Dodge Ram. I was finally going home after spending 2 years with my Aunt Joann in South Dakota.

I had changed over those 2 years, I discovered. Old me, as I refer to her, was a real girl. She had freckles splayed over her nose and cheeks, a nice addition to her tanned face, her smile was bright; made out of sunshine and the kisses placed on her cheeks by her loving mother, she had greenish-gray eyes, warm and alive with excitement and wonder. Her long auburn hair shone in the Texas heat, flying behind her every time she rode her horse. That was when mom was still in the land of the living.

New girl, as I refer to my present self, is not really alive. Her freckles looked out of place on her white face, pale from the long hard winters in the North. She did not smile so much anymore, and when she did it was fake, it didn't reach her eyes; now more gray than greenish. She had large dark circles under those eyes, which now looked haunted and dead. She childishly cut off all of her long auburn hair before her father came to pick her up; she wanted to look different, older. It now hung just past her shoulders, unhealthy and miss-cut.

My dad shipped me off to my Aunt's house after my mom died, right around the time Old me got lost. He thought I needed "a fresh start," "fresh start" my ass. He was just too afraid of New girl to be around me anymore, so he thought if he sent me to my insane Aunt's house with her three 'perfect' kids and story book marriage, I would become Old me again. Well that plan definitely backfired; I rebelled harder than I ever had, got in fights, got suspended from school twice, stole, cursed, and even tried smoking once (Never picked it up, it was awful.)

My Aunt was what you'd call a "good Samaritan" she was just trying to help her poor big brother out. She made me get up for church every Sunday, got me out of mall-jail when I got caught stealing, tried to home school me when I got suspended, and didn't yell at me when I accidentally swore around her. But when I started to "corrupt" her three angel children, I HAD to go. I liked my 3 cousins alright, and I didn't even tell Joann that it was her 15 year old son, Hayden, that had offered me the cigarette; that kid was a chimney.

It's not like I was trying to get her to kick me out, I wasn't, but I was sure glad when she finally did. Though my dad wasn't too happy about the trouble I caused his dear old sister. He ignored the fact that I still resented him for just getting rid of me without a second thought, but for now, I was finally going home to Texas. I smiled in spite of myself, a bit of Old me peeking past the dark veil; the thought of going back to the Ranch to see my horse and dog was fantastic.

"What are you smilin' at?" my father, Roy, said looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Nothing." I said blandly and let the smile slip back off my face.

"Well we're here." He said frowning and looking straight ahead as we pulled up to the high white gate I've always known and loved.

As we went through them the Big silver letters seemed to shine brighter, proclaiming to the shining sun; _"The Pioneer Ranch." _I almost squealed in uncharacteristic excitement when I saw the ranch house and monster barn sitting on our lush green pastures.

I started crying a bit when I spotted my 17 year old brother, Blake, standing in front of our large white house. Blake was golden, a spitting image of my mother; with his wheat gold hair, large grin, and shining chocolate eyes which always had the same reckless love of life in them. He wore his same dusty brown Stetson, dirty old cowboy boots, and the small leather bracelet mom got him the Christmas she passed.

I missed Blake almost as much as I miss my mom; he never wanted me to go. He begged my dad for days not to send me to Joann's house; he always had my back. Sitting next to him was my 4 year old Blue Healer, Oakley. Mom got Oakley for me on my 11th birthday. He was just a chubby gangly pup then, tripping over his own paws, but now after years of training as a cattle dog, he stood tall and lean; muscles showing through his smooth coat, and scars covering his muzzle and face from the countless incidents he's gotten himself in. I only got 2 years to spend with Oakley, only half the time he was on this Earth. But I could tell he loved me as much as I adored him, and that was enough.

As soon as my father's truck rolled to a stop, I leapt out of the car and ran to tackle Blake. He towered over me just like I remember, he was a good 6'1 and I'm only a measly 5'7.

"Hi there, Cheye-bear!" he said with a smile in his tone.

"Hey Blakey-poo!" We were using our child nicknames for each other. I looked up at him and managed a real girl smile, just like the old days. Quickly letting go of him, I kneeled on the ground next to an over excited Oakley. I gave him a good belly rub, and he wiggled like a side winder under my touch.

"Hey Oakley boy," I said in a high pitched tone, just to excite him more. He started going nuts, barking and squealing, and I almost giggled like a real girl.

I stood and walked back to the car to get my bags with Oakley trailing me the whole way. As soon as I got all three of my duffel bags and my suitcase I jogged for the front door, now excited to get inside. Oakley barked chased after me just like he did when I was a real girl.

Blake pulled open the door and I slid past him with a quick thanks. And without much thought I sprinted towards the stairs, tripping a couple times, as I zoomed to my room without another word.

I gasped after I pushed open the door. There was my room, exactly how I left it two years ago, with every knick-knack and picture frame in place. I wiped a thin layer of collected dust off the small gold horse on top of one of my many accomplishments; my barrel racing trophies and medals. I threw my suitcase haphazardly onto my small twin size bed, looking around and admiring everything I had lost.

I almost started tearing up again as I skimmed everything with docile fingers, the nostalgia of all that had happened in this room was hitting me full force; the laughs and smiles shared between my mom and Old me were unforgettable.

My mother was golden and beautiful, an angel; I couldn't forgive God for taking her back that night. She was the one that taught me how to love big, forgive when needed, cherish all, and live in the moment. She succeeded, Old me knew how to do pretty much all of this, but New girl must have forgotten.

An unpleasant shiver went through my body as I turned away from the memories; I walked over to my closet to pull out my old raggedy clothes (I couldn't wear my clothes from South Dakota because they were basically all winter coats and "city slicker" clothes.) that fit too tight, and my shit kickers. I called these old boots I had my "shit-kickers" because they were as old as they were dirty, and super small for new me I discovered.

I went and looked into the dingy full length mirror made out of antique shells and glass that my Great Grandma hand crafted when I was born. I looked at my reflection and sighed, running my fingers through my butchered reddish brown hair and tried to make myself look decent. When I discovered that would be next to impossible, I just went quickly down the stairs with Oakley still on my heels. Seeing my horse, Phantom, was the only thing in mind.

"Cheye!" my dad beckoned from across the house.

I groaned as I once again was stopped from seeing my horse, but all the same I turned and headed toward his office.

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**AN: This chapter is completely redone. I've decided to re focus on this story, I'm trying my best to finish it, but I couldn't move on with the writing of the first chapters the way they were. SOOO hence the redo. more chapters on the way! ~Kay .xx**


	2. The Stallion

**AN: Well hello! Chapter 2 already up. Fastest update I've ever done. For any of you just checking in now, please go re read chapter one. It got re done.**

**THE STALLION**

I pushed open the large cherry wood door with a grunt, stepping inside of the ageless office that my dad locked himself in every single day after mom died. I personally despised this place, it had books stacked to the ceiling on every wall, one large oak desk sitting square in the middle, and the giant piece of dead cow that stretched corner to corner of the puffy lounge chair my father now sat in; it creaked and groaned like it was 100 years old.

The smell of boot cleaner and liquor permeated my very skin. I forced myself into the hellish space after standing still to look around, Oakley just followed me happily from behind; he couldn't sense the inner turmoil I was experiencing from this room. I looked at my father figure behind his desk; he sat slumped and was already drunk, at 3 in the afternoon. But he still had an obnoxious air of superiority about him, like the ruled the world; a dictator. He was slicking back his slowly graying dark brown hair and pouring himself another drink.

"I got a comin' home present for you." He said with his slurred country draw.

My face stayed emotionless as the dead cow groaned and he pulled out something big from under his desk. He presented me the large blue box and I took it with caution. As a flipped open the lid I almost gave him a real girl smile. Almost.

I pulled from the box a brand new pair of boots. They were dark brown with intricate, tan patterns running up the sides. They were actually stunning.

He was looking at me with anticipation of my reaction. I looked up from my boots and gave him a small smirk.

"Thanks dad." I said plainly.

He looked a little disappointed with my short answer, probably expecting more of freak out, like Old me would have.

I pulled the boots onto my feet and took a few steps, Aunt Joann must have told him my shoe size, because I know he wouldn't remember something like that, and they fit perfectly.

"Well I was thinkin' you would need a new pair after a couple of years, I'm glad they fit ok."

"Thanks again. I'm going to go find Phantom." I said starting to walk back towards the door. Oakley, my little shadow, followed right behind.

"He's in the North pasture," He shouted after me "be careful out there Cheye."

I now hurried back towards the door so that nothing else could stop my onward approach to the fields.

I flew out the front door, sprinting towards the North pasture. I reached the five foot tall white fence and squinted to see around the beginning of a 100 acre pasture.

Our ranch was enormous, over a thousand acres, and most of that land was divided up into four pastures, North, South, East, and West. North was the smallest of them, where we put our own 'favorites.' Dad wouldn't admit it, but that is exactly what they were, they were the champions, star ropers and racers. They were the most valuable and cherished. The North was covered in a sort of forest, a small fourth of it covered in dense oaks and dogwoods.

The South pasture was where we keep our boarded horses, and it was also the largest pasture of the four; vast and green. East was where the pregnant mares and baby foals resided, it was covered in scattered fruit trees and cooling shadows. And lastly was the West, where the retired champs and oldest horses could live out the rest of their days peacefully. The West pasture was the most beautiful in my opinion, it had a meadow of lovely blooming blue bonnets and wild flowers, and a glistening lake with bean shaped lily pads and millions of cat tails.

There are many little divisions of land, barns, and training arenas, but the 4 giants as we call them, are the biggest. Then we have what we call the scrambling pen, where young colts and fillies go to be schooled. That was one of my least favorite places to go, it was near the back barn, covered in weeds, and had a huge rotting maple tree in the left corner. The screams of young horses being broke to ride made me cringe.

I've seen a lot of horses on my 15 years of life, in a lot of different colors: Duns, Palominos, Dappled Grays, Paints, Pintos, Chestnuts, Roans, etc., but I've only seen one horse like mine.

I started to get discouraged when I didn't find Phantom immediately, thinking that I would have to wonder among the trees that almost touched the sky, and I was already sweating like a pig with the hot Texas sun beating down on me.

Suddenly there was a loud whinny from around a large embankment of trees. I turned to that direction and I saw him, his glistening coat soaked in sweat as his eyes locked on mine; the Black Stallion, my own horse, Phantom.

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He was thundering across the field, leading the whole herd, and coming right at me. But I wasn't scared, I knew his little game.

If I moved out of his way he would just turn the herd in that direction and keep running towards me. He got closer and closer to me, but as soon as he was about 20 feet away he gave a shrill whistle; effectively turning the herd from my direction.

He came to a loping stop in front of me, staring down at me with his big brown eyes.

"Hey boy, remember me?" I said jokingly.

He leaned his head down and nudged me with his nose I chuckled a bit and smiled, a real smile, just like Old me. He put his head on my shoulder and wrapped my arms around his massive neck. He nickered softly as I pulled away; I moved his thick bangs from his forehead and kissed the little white star there.

"Hey boy," I whispered, afraid to break the trance we found ourselves in.

"_I missed you Cheyenne…" _ A deep voice echoed through my head.

My eyebrows furrowed, what was that? I wondered; I must be going insane. It's really to be excepted.

"Come on boy lets go ridin'!" I spoke, real enthusiasm coming through my tone.

Usually when we went for rides Oakley just went back to the barn for a nap, and waited for our return. If my dog is one thing, he's very well trained. I know that because I trained him myself; he can do almost anything on command.

"Go on Oakley." I gave him one last pat on the head and he took off.

The saddest thing was he looked like he didn't want to leave me, because if he did I wouldn't come back. It was heart breaking. I was gone for 2 years and now my dog felt like I could disappear at any moment. I frowned and went back to Phantom.

I led him to the fence and put my foot on the board nearest to the top. I heaved myself on his large back. He had grown over the two years I was gone, he no longer had any leftover foal fat; he was very muscular and fit, about 18 hands tall with long sleek legs and a wide chest. In other words he was all around gorgeous.

As soon as I was on his back l took his mane and pulled it gently to the left, (I hadn't bothered with a bridle, because I trust Phantom with my life. Besides I wanted this ride to be bareback) and gently kicked him. I held on tight and Phantom took off in a full out canter.

It felt wonderful; to be on Phantom's back again the wind on my face, what was left of my reddish hair flying out behind me. I closed my eyes and I almost felt complete again, caught up in the memories of the old days; my first pony, my first ride, my first time winning a race, my first time being flung from the back of my pony, my first time getting kicked. All my firsts, good and bad, spin around my mind; it was almost like a time machine.

It felt like we were flying. I opened my eyes just to see us, all too soon, rounding the corner. Phantom slowed down to a walk with perfect grace on my command.

"Wow I missed you so much boy."

We walked towards the opposite side of the field where the second gates were located, and I decided in that moment to go find Moonlight, Phantom's mate.

Moonlight was a pearly white quarter horse that I used to ride poles on; she was mom's horse. Moon was magic as my mom once was; she shimmered and shined with every move. It took me by surprise the day my father called me at my Aunt's house to tell me that Moonlight was indeed pregnant with Phantom's foal.

That was not the only time he tried to call me up there, he called me on holidays and my Birthday, but I usually denied his calls or when I did talk to him, it was short one-word answers and awkward conversations. But that call was one I was really glad I took.

I pushed Phantom to a lope and we flew down the side path, on the way to the East pasture. As we neared the picket fence, I brought Phantom to a halt and jumped down to open the gate slightly; just enough to get through.

I stepped inside of the gate and Phantom followed, it probably wasn't the best situation to have Phantom in, a Stud horse inside of a pasture with so many pregnant mares and foals, but I knew he wanted to see Moonlight just as badly as I did, and I'm sure that my dad has been keeping them apart. Phantom was about 5 going on 6 years old by now; Moon was about 8 and a half.

It had to be a secret that I took Phantom into the East pasture; but I knew I wouldn't tell and he certainly couldn't. We started for the large group of Mares under a big fruit tree in the front corner, where Moonlight was sure to be.

We saw young foals playing and running around near the large craw-apple tree near the back gate of the fence, never straying too far from their mothers. We heard a low nicker and looked to our right, and saw a shining white coated mare coming towards us.

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**AN: YAYY maybe i'll update again tomorrow, because i'm on a roll.**


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